


Don't Touch My Stuff

by BloodEnvy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealous Derek, Jealousy, Mutant Reader, mutant!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 04:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: The Milano crew are stuck playing taxi as a favor to Yondu, who quickly takes a liking to the less-than-impressed Reader. The only problem is, she's already secretly involved with the ship's most famous hothead, and Rocket doesn't like to share.





	Don't Touch My Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> While the reader character shares the same powerset as Barricade in the Tony/Reader series I'm currently writing, the stories are in no way related. I'm just lazy, and like writing force-field abilities.
> 
> Also, its my first time writing Yondu, so please let me know what you think :)

You sat cross-legged and comfortable on the floor of the Milano’s main room, your paperback laying abandoned by your side. You’d intended just to read for a while, content to keep Rocket silent company as he worked on whatever new device he was creating. The two of you spent a lot of time like that; while neither of you addressed it, the friendship between you had grown into something more emotionally intimate in the last month or so, something neither of you had named. Still, you’d stopped picking up men at bars while at port, and Rocket slept curled against the small of your back more often than not. Whatever it was, you were keeping it to yourselves; you were still trying to come to grips with your feelings for the raccoon, and you didn’t need input from the others until you both knew where you stood.

Nothing had really changed between you outwardly; you still shared a bunk, you still sat by his side at dinner and you were still the one most likely not to suffer a shot from a blaster if a drunken Rocket had to be manhandled out of a bar. The others were in the cockpit, and you’d had about ten minutes of quiet (aside from the quiet backdrop of Quill’s mixtape) with your partner and book before you’d gotten distracted.

Not by Rocket – he was still fiddling with spare parts – but by the tiny tree that shared your bunk and would wake you up at night to beg for candy.

Your hands were raised in front of you, fingers twitching in the gestures you always used to shape and control your projections on a small scale. The mid-level ability to create psychokinetic force fields came with its perks, and while you didn’t have as much control as you liked, entertaining Groot on long treks between planets was definitely one of them. It might not have been the usual purpose, but you could always chalk it up to honing your reaction times. Besides, the little guy loved this game.

You were projecting a small, saucer-sized field about a foot or so above you for Groot to use as a platform. With a joyful cry he leapt off it blindly, and you quickly closed your fist to dissolve it while summoning up another with your other hand. You caught him about eight inches down and further away from you. He giggled as he landed, standing again and jumping on it excitedly. Every time his feet met it, ripples of blue-tinged energy would dance through it. Rocket glanced up at the two of you, an amused, affectionate expression on his face, one that he only let cross it when you were alone.

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah, I saw it, little man.” Rocket assured him, like a dad tiredly watching his kid on a diving board.

You wiggled your fingers experimentally, the shield expanding. Groot bounced around the edges of it happily before leaping off again. You caught him hastily with another projection, a few inches above Rocket’s head. The raccoon smirked up at him as Groot waved at him through it. You bit you lip and released the energy suddenly, bursting into laughter as the Flora Colossus fell straight onto your partner’s head.

Rocket cursed as his little friend tumbled down into his lap, glaring at you. You winked teasingly at him as Groot babbled away laughingly; the little guy immediately began tugging at the edge of Rocket’s jumpsuit, eager for him to join the two of you.

“You’re a frickin’ pain, you know that?” he huffed, trying to hide his smile. He shook Groot off and poked him in the belly when he pouted. Groot laughed again, wriggling away. “The both of ya.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been paying more attention to us than whatever the hell that is.” You taunted playfully, gesturing at the half-finished device in front of him. “Which is…?”

“Prototype.”

“How enlightening.”

“Shut your mouth, I’m workin’,” he grinned.

You snickered, beckoning Groot towards you. He scampered over excitedly. “Again?”

“I am Groot!”

“How about a speed run?” you suggested and he nodded, bracing himself like a runner at the starting line. You turned to Rocket. “Do the honors?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “On your marks… Get set… Go!”

You summoned a force field, dissolving it and creating another in front of it almost immediately after Groot jumped upon it. He ran over each of them, and you both continued all the way to the table in the middle of the room. When Groot’s feet met the tabletop you both cheered, Rocket clapping behind you in amusement. You stood and stretched, stiff from sitting on the hard floor.

“Well, ain’t you just full of surprises?”

You turned around, caught off-guard. Yondu Udonta was leaning against the wall by the cockpit’s ladder. Quill followed him down and gave you a friendly wink, taking a seat at the table and planting his feet on it.

He was doing his old captain a favor – Yondu needed to get somewhere Ravager ships weren’t welcome, but thanks to the events on Xandar, the Milano was the exception. So, you were all stuck playing taxi for a while.

You flushed and stiffened uncomfortably; you weren’t used to people seeing you use your abilities, not in a personal setting. You saw Rocket straighten in your periphery, ears up, no doubt noticing your wariness. “Can I help you with something?”

Yondu smirked widely at you, touching his tongue to a canine. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m Yondu.”

“She knows who you are, ya moron.” Rocket interjected sarcastically as he tossed his work aside and moved to your side, arms folded. You coughed to smother a laugh. “How many ugly-ass blue guys you think Quill knows?”

“Rocket…” Quill groaned, exasperated.

“Missed you too, Rat.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ain’t you just…” Yondu replied, giving you an appraising look that made you very aware of the tightness of your jeans. It was kind of strange; he had the same kind of charm to him that Quill did, and you had to wonder if Quill had purposely picked up Yondu’s mannerisms, or if it had been subconscious. Either way, it was uncanny; the look he gave you was the same one Peter had once upon a time, and just like then, you ignored it. You saw Quill shake his head exasperatedly out of the corner of your eye. “What exactly is it you were doin’, darlin’?”

“I, uh…” you cleared your throat. “I make shields.”

“Shields?”

“Like… force fields.”

“Out of thin air?”

“…with my brain?”

“You just think it and ‘poof’?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s a hell of an asset in a fight,” Quill interjected, and you shot him a small smile. “Stand out in the open with her and they can’t land a single shot.”

“And what does that make you exactly, girlie?” Yondu asked, stepping away from the wall and towards you as Drax descended the ladder.

“She’s Terran.” Rocket said sourly. He knew, as did the rest of crew, that you’d had a hard time coming to terms with your mutant genes back on Terra. Your time at the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters had helped you learn to control and appreciate your abilities, but the idea that people would consider you abnormal still stung. “Just like Quill.”

“Except for her mutation. Quill doesn’t have one of those.” Drax pointed out casually, and you glared at him. The smallest of growls rumbled through Rocket’s throat. “What?”

“You one of them mutants, then?”

“If you want to get all technical about it.”

“Wanna show me what you can do?”

“You get any closer and you’re gonna find out.” you dead-panned, and Rocket sniggered. Quill coughed to cover a laugh of his own.

“Is that a promise?” Yondu said suggestively.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I’m going to my bunk.”

***

Yondu paid particular attention to you over the next few days; dropping comments whenever you came in the room. It was easy to ignore, but you could tell that it was starting to get to Rocket. He tensed every time Yondu came into the room, so you’d taken to avoiding him just to keep Rocket relaxed.

It wasn’t until his third night on the ship that it became an actual issue. Quill, Drax and Yondu had broken out some of the heavier stuff early in what would be considered the afternoon, the roar of their laughter and macho posturing echoing through the ship. You’d eventually convinced Rocket to join them, insisting he have a good time.

You had joined Gamora in the cockpit and taken the opportunity to ride shotgun and get a kind of intro course into flying. You’d spent a few hours with her, Groot scrambling happily underfoot, and while Gamora was quieter than your male cohort, she was wonderful company. She’d watched with interest as you’d tried projecting a shield around Groot instead of in front of him; she’d offered to help with more hands-on training once you were planet-side.

Quill had called you both down for food some time later, and while Gamora had rolled her eyes at the slurring of his speech, she’d set the Milano to auto-pilot and the two of you had gone down to join them, Groot riding on the assassin’s shoulder.

The four of them were sitting around the table, drinks in hand. Rocket stole a quick glance at you as you passed, a drunken, affectionate smile on his mouth and a twitch in his ears. Gamora touched a hand to Quill’s shoulder as she passed, and his came up to brush over it.

“Is this a liquid dinner?” you asked in amusement, noting the complete lack of food on the table. “Cause if you’re expecting us to make it… Well, Gamora won’t be impressed.” You caught her smirking at that.

Quill looked sheepish, but Drax had no qualms about speaking up. “Gamora is too formidable to expect that from, Y/N. But you are much more suited to domestic work.”

Quill let out a dramatic gasp at that and Yondu snorted. They’d had more than you’d thought.

“Thanks, buddy.” You said sarcastically, but you rolled your eyes and headed for the kitchen. “You’re gonna pay for that later.”

“I am not afraid of doing battle with you!” Drax declared loudly.

“Oh, not in battle, my friend,” you told him as you returned, hauling with you a bunch of snack food. Not the healthiest dinner, but maybe the salt would help sober them up. “Get used to freezing showers.”

Rocket laughed at that, and you winked at him as you passed around food.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Yondu drawled, and you faltered as you felt his hand caress your backside. You spun around, instinctively summoning up a force field between the two of you. It stretched floor to ceiling and was big enough that it knocked him off his chair, and Drax roared with laughter at the bewildered expression on the blue man’s face.

“What the hell’d you do that for?!” Yondu said, clambering to his feet.

“You don’t touch me,” you said, voice hard despite its wavering. You weren’t used to projecting shields so large, and you realized it had been hours since you’d last eaten. Your head spun slightly.

“What’d he just do?” Rocket demanded, standing on his chair. His voice was still thick with alcohol, but his tone was serious now. “What did you just do?!”

“Rocket, man, what’s your problem?” Quill had straightened slightly in his seat, but Gamora looked surprisingly calm beside him. Maybe even a little proud.

“Did you just touch her?” Rocket was off his seat and in front of you before you’d even realized it. You felt dizzy, and your hand found the tabletop for support. Low blood sugar was a bitch. “You don’t get to touch her.”

“Rocket…”

“Man, relax!” Quill was now out of his seat, hands up in a pacifying gesture. Last thing he needed were holes in his ship.

“You got a problem with that, Rat?” Yondu challenged defensively, ego bruised.

“Yeah, I got a problem, asshole.” Rocket slurred angrily, hackles raised. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine!”

“What’s yours?” Quill repeated, the slightest hint of amusement to his words. “Rocket, have you got a crush?”

Drax’s laughter renewed, almost painfully loud, and he almost fell out of his chair himself. “The rodent has feelings for the Terran!”

Rocket snarled, hackles raised as he turned on the two of them. Despite the increasingly uncomfortable dizziness you were feeling, you held out your hand and projected a small shield in front of him, barely the size of a baseball. Still, he stopped, glancing down at it and then at you.

“It’s okay, Rocket. I’m fine…”

“He’s—”

You closed your hand, the shield dissipating, and reached out shakily to stroke the fur behind his ear. You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay.”

“Uh, Y/N…?”

You stiffened slightly, hand halting, before turning to face the others. “You got something to say, Peter?”

He hesitated, before shaking his head. “Nope, I’m just very, very, drunk.”

“Good.” You nodded, turning to the Destroyer. “Drax? You laugh at Rocket one more time and I find out what happens when I project a force field _inside someone._ ”

Oh my God, you actually made Drax the Destroyer gulp. Gamora, who seemed to be taking this revelation pretty much in stride, looked somehow more proud than before.

“You—” you pointed a finger at Yondu, who was watching the whole situation unfurl with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Touch me again and we’re gonna have a problem. Otherwise, we’re all good.”

“’ppreciate it.” He replied, nodding and helping himself to another drink. “Tell you what, Rat. You got yourself a hell of a spitfire there.”

There was a cockiness in Rocket’s expression that almost made you roll your eyes, but it disappeared under the blooming affection he wore as he looked at you. “Yeah. She’s got me, too.”


End file.
